


Objet-trouve

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [55]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Billy the Skull - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>objet-trouve: noun; ȯb-ˌzhā-trü-ˈvā: a natural or discarded object found by chance and held to have aesthetic value</p>
<p>French, literally ‘found object.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objet-trouve

"So...the skull?" John asked, slightly curious who he had displaced as Sherlock's sounding board.

"My objet-trouve?" Sherlock paused thoughtfully, wondering how much to share so early in their newly recognized relationship. "Hmmmm..."

"Now you are required to tell me." John rolled onto his side and ran his fingertips lightly over Sherlock's ribs, knowing just the suggestion of tickling would make Sherlock tell him anything he wanted.

"Alright...he was given to me by our gardener, the only friend I had growing up. He realized that I was a little different and had no kids of his own, so took me under his wing, showed me how to distinguish poisonous plants from harmless, the names of every insect found in the UK, and taught me how to embrace being alone. Not lonely, he taught me there is value in being solitary, which became useful as I grew up..."

"Go on..."

"One day, he didn't show up. I asked my mum and she said he was very sick. I asked to see him, and at first she was going to say no, until she saw my face and knew I wasn't going to take no for an answer. So, she took me to his cottage, and our cook let us in.

"Master Sherlock, oh, good, he has been asking for you. Come in, come in."

I went in and he whispered to me, "I don't have much to leave, but I think you will find this helpful in the future." He handed me a box, beautifully carved and painted. I looked inside and there was Billy. "Who was he?" I asked.

"My very best friend in the world, Master Sherlock, he listened without interrupting, smiled at all my jokes, and never left me. I'm giving him to you now, I think you will take good care of him. Now, I need to rest a bit. Be a good boy and I know someday, you will find someone even better than Billy, here."

"How old were you?"

"Eight."

"I'm so sorr-"

"Don't be. He was right, just took a long time." Sherlock looked into John's eyes, and smiled that lovely crooked smile, "Billy was my best friend until I met you."


End file.
